


The Heart of a Hero

by Mrs_Stiltskin (Lady_Belles_Teacup)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A touch of angsty self-doubt, Afterlife Smut, Blow Jobs, But he gets over it quick, Cunnilingus, F/M, Oral Sex, Post-Finale, Rumple being Rumple, Shameless Smut, Smut, a really lot, but he wants to fuck his wife first, he really wants to see nealfire, just really a whole lot of post-finale afterlife smut, like five seconds after they see each other, mentions of nealfire, no burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 07:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15043328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Belles_Teacup/pseuds/Mrs_Stiltskin
Summary: This is really just me making myself feel better after the series finale. It took me longer than I'd hoped to get it posted, but well, I write slow.There is a little bit of angst in Rumple’s trademark self-doubt, but it's really just a whole lot of afterlife reunion smut in several flavors and a little bit about how Rumple and Belle feel about their ultimate fate. Their happily ever after, forever, and ever.





	The Heart of a Hero

The first thing Rumplestiltskin noticed was that he could feel his heart beating, as strong and vital as it ever had. Surely, that was wrong. He knew that he had just given it up, shoved it in Rogers' chest so Alice could have her family back, so none of them would know the desolate isolation of centuries as he once had.

It hadn’t really been hard, at the end, to make his choice. Easier than most of them would probably think. He felt a little twinge of something like guilt that the world would remember him as a brave hero who saved everyone, when all he really wanted was to be free of the pain of knowing that the line of the Guardians was gone and he would never be able to earn his way back to Belle and Bae. To be sure, he knew it was the right thing to do, to end the Wish Realm version of himself that was unfettered by the memory of True Love, to save his family, and everyone else, from the terrible, lonely fates his other self had devised.

Perhaps, if he had gone on, he could have found another way to defeat the Dark One once and for all, and to find the path Belle had been so certain he could follow. Perhaps, it was possible. But Alice’s father would have been dead, and he knew that wouldn’t be right. He loved Alice very much, as a daughter even, but he was no real substitute for having her true father by her side. Not when he could fix it. He finally let the feeling wash over him. He _had_ done the right thing. He had done it for the _right_ reasons. He _was_ a hero. Believing it was such a relief. It was an epiphany that Belle would be proud of, from wherever it was she was watching. She could be proud of _him_ , Bae, too, and Gideon when he heard the tale from Alice. That was what truly mattered. It made his heart beat just a little faster, a little stronger.

His heart. He could _feel_ it. Pounding away in his chest. How could it be? Where was he? He tried to open his eyes, only to realize they were open, but that the darkness was complete. The Vault of the Dark One? It wasn’t like he hadn’t been there before. He supposed it would be fitting, if not really fair, that he would spend eternity there, in the darkness of his own making. He’d even expected to, once, when he’d sacrificed himself to save Belle and Bae from his own horrible father. At least now, he had the memories of his life with Belle and Gideon and Bae (Neal!) to sustain him. A lifetime of loving moments he could relive over and over, one at a time. But, gods, he had _tried_. Couldn’t the universe cut him the least break?

He felt the warmth of tears as they tracked down his cheeks, he tasted the salt, but he brushed them away roughly. _None of that, not now. There could be no regret._ Was that the back of his hand he could see? Maybe his eyes were adjusting to the darkness, maybe there was a little light after all. Now there was a little sound, as well. He could hear the others, Regina and Henry and Alice, all of them, mourning for him. For Rumplestiltskin, the man. His friends and the family he would never get to enjoy. Voices drifted in the mostly-dark, that they would miss him, that he deserved his happy ending after everything he had given up for them. The tears fell again, and this time he let them come. He let the feelings of love and friendship and gratitude wash over him. Rumplestiltskin sobbed, he curled into a ball of feelings and sobbed until his head pounded and his body ached, until he thought the tears might drown him. If he weren’t already dead.

Regina’s voice drifted into his ears, louder than the others, “You deserve your happy ending, now go, find it.” He felt her kiss, pressed to his forehead, and he believed her. He opened his eyes, and this time there was a grey light that greeted him. He could see his hands, his body. There was a thick, swirling mist surrounding him. He sat up, pressing his hand to his beating heart once again. What was he missing? He climbed heavily to his feet and took stock, feeling his body for the first time. There was something beneath the surface, as though the tingle of magic were still there within him.

Rumple closed his eyes, and felt the whisper of magic rush along his skin, or something like magic. There was no feeling of debt accrued, no sharp smell of ozone that was so familiar to tickle his nostrils. He experimented, willing himself fresh, clean, and dressed in his favorite leather breeches, grown soft with age and wear, silk shirt and waistcoat with his best high-collared jacket. The clothes he wore when he was with Belle and they’d had the most blissful years of their marriage, in the little house they had built with their own hands, there at the Edge of Realms. When he opened his eyes and looked down, he was in exactly the outfit he had pictured, it was Belle’s favorite. His heart raced as he thought of the way she’d looked at him when he wore it. Like she wanted to eat him. He felt himself smile.

The light had grown, but the mist was still thick, and he couldn’t see very far. He took a few hesitant steps, trying to figure out where he might be. He ruled out the Vault of the Dark Ones, that was tiny, and all at once he had the feeling of vast space all around him. The ground was still solid beneath his feet, though, and he took a few more steps into the mist. Was it thinner over there? The scent of rich loam and fallen leaves and forest smells permeated his senses.

A shadow loomed ahead, tendrils of mist curling around it’s familiar shape. The wishing well. Their well. Where the waters of Lake Nostos rose to touch the Land without Magic. Where what was lost might be returned. He felt his heart stop beating for a moment, the breath caught in his chest. He spun around, a sudden feeling overwhelming him.

“Rumple?” _Her_ voice washed over him. Was he dreaming? How could he not be dreaming? Did you dream... after? Gods, but he hoped so. At least that would be something to get him through eternity.

“Rumple!” His heart was nearly leaping in his throat, trying to escape the cage of his chest like a wild thing. Light, a blessed, soft, golden light, shone all around her. A vision of beauty. A mirage. Sent to comfort him? To torment him? He didn’t care. It was her face and her voice and her beloved form, so bright she burned through the mist. Her pale yellow dress sparkling in the light. Her chestnut curls cascading over one bare shoulder. Her beautiful, blue eyes gleaming, reflecting the knowing little smile that played about her perfect pink lips.

Rumplestiltskin wanted to take a step toward her, his heaven, his Belle, but he was terrified the illusion would dissipate. That she would burst like a bubble or simply melt into the mist and be gone, and he wanted the moment to last forever. In a heartbeat, _a heartbeat_ , something broke within him. What if she was real? How could he not fall into her arms and thank every deity he had ever heard of? He took a breath, giving in to the feeling that had begun to grow inside him. _Hope._ Regina’s words echoed in his mind … “Now go, find it...” His happiness was standing right in front of him. This was his moment and he was going to take it. Without shame. Without self-doubt. Without fear.

Each step grew more confident as he closed the distance between them. Her hands reached for his, and when he took them in his own, they were warm and solid and not made of mist at all. Belle’s expression had been calm, serene, but her smile widened as their fingers laced together. Her blue eyes glittered in the half-light that surrounded them, welcoming him in.

“I knew you’d make it home.”

Peace stole over him. It rose up from the ground and through the soles of his boots, flowing over him, twining around him and within him, it lifted the roots of his hair like a summer breeze. It mended and filled his broken heart until it overflowed and dripped out of the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks to splash heedlessly on their clasped hands.

“Yes,” he breathed.

Belle’s smile was radiant as she dove for him. She was laughing and smiling and tears were threatening to overwhelm her, her small hands clutching his shoulders as her lips crashed against his. Bright, white light burst around them, a soft _whump_ of magic that started where their lips met, spreading outward and leaving them both breathless. It was real and he didn’t know how, but he was home. Belle was warm and soft and so _alive_ as she pressed herself against him. Rumple’s hands caressed the bare skin of her shoulders before they slid down to cup her waist, to tug her closer as their lips parted and his tongue slipped over hers in a wonderful, familiar rhythm. He wanted to crawl inside her and never be parted again.

It seemed like ages until they broke apart, and it was everything. The mists had resolved a bit, and they were standing in the woods outside of Storybrooke, beside the wishing well, candles lit, just as on the night they’d married. The trees were tall and familiar, the leaves crunched beneath their feet, the strange mist still curled around them, whispering, but it was slowly dissipating. Rumple pressed his forehead to hers, and she looked up at him with so much love in her beautiful blue eyes, he _knew_ he had indeed died and gone to heaven. Belle laughed her tinkling laugh as his nose brushed against her forehead, and he laughed, too and kissed her there. Their eyes met again, and he couldn’t tear his away, lest she melt away with the mist. If he didn’t look away...

“I don’t understand,” Rumple began, but Belle shushed him with another heart-stopping kiss that seemed to last a hundred years and the span of a single breath all at once.

“Shh, not now,” She murmured against his lips, her hands brushing through his hair. She sighed as her fingers found the silky ends, and she melded her body even tighter against his. “Right now is for kissing.”

He lost himself in her sweet mouth. The familiar feeling of her tongue sweeping against his, brushing delicately against his palate and seeking out every sensitive place. He pulled back, a thought flashing through his mind, piercing him. He needed to know.

“Bae?” He shook his head, trying to fix his son’s new name in his mind, “Neal. Is Neal here?”

Belle smiled up at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she rocked in his arms, “He can’t wait to see you.” Rumple relaxed around her and she reached up to kiss under his chin, and down his neck, her fingers twined in the silken strands of his hair. “Neal thought it best if he gave us just a little privacy, at least at first.” Belle’s fingers wandered down to fuss with the knotted scarf that was tucked into his shirt, her eyes wide and dark with desire. His fingers tightened around her waist, and Rumple leaned down, his forehead resting against hers, her breath sweet and soft against his lips.

“Privacy is good,” he breathed as he bent to part her lips with his tongue, “privacy is excellent.”

His kiss was soft and wet and desperate and filled her full of longing. It had been so very long and Belle yearned for him, to hold his hard length safely within her and feel the heat of him fill her, their bodies pressed together, made one by the truest love. By eternal love. Love she had believed in with all her heart, and now he was here, and he was hers forever.

Belle was the one to pull away, and his lips followed of their own accord. She was so sweet, and he had missed her so much, he could have stood there forever simply kissing her, but Belle had other ideas. She took him by the hand and began to tug him along, he followed glancing around with curiosity as the mists parted. Rumplestiltskin smiled as the shapes and colors ahead resolved into the familiar shape of their little house. The one they’d built with their own hands.

“We can be anywhere and anywhen,” she glanced up at him, seeking approval, “but I thought we’d start here.” Her mouth curved into a wicked smile, a beautiful blush rising in her cheeks.

He nodded, “Of course, sweetheart. My favorite place in all the realms.” Rumplestiltskin scooped Belle up in his arms, the frothy confection of a yellow dress only minimally in the way as he carried her over the threshold and up the stairs to their bedroom. It looked just as lived-in and cozy as he remembered.

“I’ve been here, waiting for you,” Belle said softly, running her hands up his sides and under the collar of his jacket, slipping it off over his shoulders to fall behind him in a neglected heap. She blushed again and shrugged, “Your pillow still smells like you.”

Rumple’s fingers found the laces of her dress, and as his they began to work, he realized he couldn’t wait to see her again, to taste her and touch her and smell her. “I thought you’d be off on all kinds of adventures. You should have been. I’m sorry you had to wait for me,” he felt tears prick the backs of his eyes again, and his hands trembled, “I truly thought I’d lost my way back to you.”

Belle pressed her hips against him as she worked loose the knot of his cravat, “Oh, I have, Rumple. Time works differently here of course, and I’ve been off seeing all sorts of things. Collecting new books for my library, speaking with the most interesting people. I’ve spent time with my mother, and met your aunties. But I live here. Here is where I come to rest.” She slipped the fabric from around his neck and tossed it on the bed, going straight to work on the buttons of his waistcoat.

“Now you’re here, and I want...other things besides rest,” she worked the buttons quickly, pushing the heavy brocade off his shoulders to join his leather jacket on the floor, “I’ve missed you, Rumple.”

He made a small noise of contentment as he felt the laces of her corset part beneath his fingertips, the dress sliding down her arms to form a glittering pool at her feet. The little minx was wearing nothing but her favorite - and his - golden, sky-high heels and a lacy, golden thong. The little straps that circled her ankles doing things to him that made his breeches most uncomfortable. Not exactly the undergarments he had been expecting with the gown she had been wearing, but who was he to complain?

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” his voice shook, but he took her by the hand and she stepped gracefully out of the pool of yellow fabric at her feet. He twirled her around and she obliged, allowing him a full view of her perfect beauty. For the first time, it registered in his brain that her appearance was made youthful again. Her hair was fully chestnut - no hint of the grey that had touched it in her later years - her alabaster skin smooth and unlined, her belly taut and her breasts high and firm. Her small nipples were pebbled and erect, the same dusky pink as he remembered the smooth, glistening cleft at the apex of her thighs. The perfect globes of her beautiful bottom twinkled at him as she turned, and he wondered for a moment what he looked like.

She watched him admiring her body as she slowly spun around, and it was his turn to blush. He’d loved her just as fiercely in her eighties as he had in her twenties, and their sex life had been just as fulfilling as well. He hoped she knew that, and he wanted to say something, but all that came out was a choked, “You’re so, so beautiful, my Belle.”

Belle’s smile was just a little bit this side of shy, “You’ve always made me feel beautiful, Rumple. Always.”

“Because you are. Stunning...Breathtaking...from the moment I first laid eyes on you until the terrible day you had to leave me,” tears were pooled in his eyes and he drew her in to rest against his chest. “Your beauty never dimmed, Belle. Never. Not to me.”

The sincerity in the amber depths of his eyes made her heart clench, even though she’d already known it. He had shown it, in his worshipful adoration, in his thoughtful attention, every day of their life together. Once they’d finally come to terms with who they were and who they wanted to be, for each other and for Gideon. They’d both become more temperate after their son had been returned, he more open and honest and she more accepting, as it was always meant to be. But their passion for one another had never been temperate, it was fiery and dark and filled with everything they had ever been to one another. Rumple had been as generous and ardent a lover on the first day of their marriage as on the last. She smiled her thanks, blushing at the memories, and drew his shirt over his head, tossing it aside and reaching down to unbutton his trousers.

“I wasn’t this age when I got here,” Belle said, “I was...old...as I left you, but I’ve sort of...” she searched for a word, waving her hand in the air, “...settled, I guess, here. I suppose it’s my preference? It’s where I feel the most comfortable. I hope it pleases you.”

“You always please me, my darling Belle, my Beauty,” he sighed as she worked his leathers down over his hips, squatting down to tug off his boots. She smiled as his cock sprang free, already mostly hard just from looking at her, from their kissing, and being undressed by her gentle, knowing hands. “I hope I still please you. I’m only too well aware of how exhausting my journey back to you has been.”

Rumple stepped out of his trousers and threw his head back, gasping, as Belle took his hardening length in her small hands. Her voice was husky with desire, a throaty whisper against the sensitive head of his cock. “Oh, yes, you please me very much, Rumplestiltskin,” she breathed. Belle ran her tongue along the veined underside and up to the smooth, soft tip and he nearly came out of his skin and on her pretty face. Perhaps another time, he thought wickedly, if she was amenable. He bit the inside of his cheek and concentrated on the sensation of her pressing kisses up and down the length of his cock, she teased the tip with her tongue and he let out a rumbling groan, tangling his fingers in her soft hair.

“Belle,” he whispered.

“Hush,” she breathed against the base of him, and she felt a shiver run through him as he closed his eyes, his fingers tightening convulsively against her scalp, “let me, please..."

Belle let him slip between her lips, and curled her tongue around him as she took him to the root, her warm, wet mouth encompassing all of him. He felt her throat relax as she took him completely and it was truly, truly heaven as she hollowed her cheeks and began to suck. She gripped his backside with eager fingers and pressed him even deeper.

Rumple trembled from head to toe and tried in vain not to buck his hips against her, but she didn’t seem to mind. She let him slide out, her sweet tongue flicking just below the head, and then took him deep once again, humming with satisfaction as he hit the back of her throat. The vibrations making his knees weak and his cock painfully hard. He never thought he’d feel this rapture again, and yet here he was, blessed by the gods. He knew he wasn’t going to last, a few more strokes and he would be beyond stemming the tide. But it felt so blissful, his lovely little wife’s lips wrapped around him, teasing at the tip and swirling around as she took him to the hilt again and again.

He tried to pull out, but Belle gripped him tighter, increasing her pace and pressure. She wanted him, _all_ of him. To drink him down. Taste him. Claim him. She finally had her Rumple with her forever, and here she was, impatient to feel his come trickling down the back of her throat. She nearly laughed at her own impetuousness, and she would have, if her mouth hadn’t been so delightfully occupied.

She’d never really worried that he’d lose his way back to her. She knew him. She knew his heart was true, that he was always destined to be the final Guardian, to end the line of the Dark Ones. Even when he didn’t believe it, she did. And now he was here, warm and solid, and his thickness was in her mouth and she was as full of fierce, triumphant joy as she was of _him_. His taste spread across her tongue, so familiar and so welcome, salty and musky and heady and delicious. The smell of leather and the spicy maleness that was his own scent filled her nostrils as she breathed him in. Belle gripped him by the hips and sucked him with a will, taking what was hers, what she had fought for, and believed in.

Her azure eyes were dark, almost black with desire, when she gazed up at him, and the sight of his own glistening length disappearing between her plump, pink lips was too much. Rumple’s fingers tightened in her hair and he came with a shout, pulsing his seed onto the back of Belle’s eager tongue, his entire body trembling with the force of it.

Belle sucked and swallowed, her busy mouth humming and vibrating around him as aftershocks jolted through him, tearing muttered obscenities from his lips. Then she was licking and kissing her way up his chest as he helped her stand, her legs as wobbly as his own. When she made it to his mouth, he devoured her, lips and tongue and teeth. His kiss was messy and wet, soft and soulful and desperate, and full of every ounce of gratitude and joy that he felt now that he was here, with his beautiful Belle until the end of all things.

They broke apart eventually, breathless and giddy, his lips still plucking gently at hers. Rumple trailed kisses along her jaw, fingers twisting in her curls and pulling back gently, exposing her throat for more of his attention. “That...was...incredible...my...love…” Rumplestiltskin breathed between kisses, working his way steadily down her neck.

“My pleasure,” Belle answered breathlessly, closing her eyes and savoring the sensation of her husband’s lips and tongue mapping every inch of her skin. She concentrated on the way his fingers pulled at her hair, the way his other hand wandered across her hip and his fingertips teased at the lacy waistband of her thong.

“It was certainly _my_ pleasure, and I do believe that makes it your turn, Mrs. Gold,” he murmured against the hollow of her throat, the tip of his tongue flicking out to trail along her collarbone and down between her breasts. He tasted the salt of her sweat and the sweetness he remembered so well, like strawberries and summer rain, soft against his tongue as he kissed and sucked and licked his way across her chest.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Belle moaned as his mouth closed around one nipple, his tongue circling, his teeth grazing gently, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. She was already wet from sucking him off, but gods, when he suckled and bit at her breasts, she was lost. She felt the moisture pooling between her thighs, longing for his touch, and, _oh gods_ , the cleverness of his lips and tongue.

Rumple released her nipple with a wet _pop_ , meeting her heated gaze with his own cocksure grin, mischief sparkling in his eyes, along with love, and desire, and lust. All for her. Gods, but she’d missed that.

“After that welcome home?” He pressed her back against the wall, pinning her arms above her head and running the tip of his tongue over her breasts, across her collarbone and up her throat until he reached the delicate shell of her ear. He gave her earlobe a gentle nip, and again the skin just beneath, until she shivered beneath him. “You’re getting as many turns as you can possibly _take_ , sweetheart,” his tongue flickered in her ear. “I insist.”

“You won’t hear me arguing,” Belle said, her voice quivering as he slipped one hand into her panties, running a finger through her slick folds, making an appreciative noise as he released a rush of hot fluid to trickle down her thighs. His other hand kept both of hers pinned at the wrists above her head while he ravaged her neck and shoulders with tongue and teeth.

“Good, because all I want to hear right now, is you screaming my name as you come for me,” Rumplestiltskin pulled back, holding her gaze with a dark intensity. Belle let out a tiny whimper when he removed his hand from her panties, tearing his eyes from hers to gaze at his glistening fingers with something like awe.

“All this? For me, my sweet?”

“Yes!” Belle breathed, “it’s all for you. Only ever for you.”

He turned his hand this way and that with an incredulous shake of his head, “All this sweet nectar is mine?” Belle nodded, and she couldn’t look away.

“Always,” She groaned softly as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, closing his eyes and moaning in ecstasy as the first taste of her spread across his tongue. When he opened them again, they were wild and dark. Hungry. Belle’s heart racing as he growled and slid down her body to kneel at her feet.

Rumple hooked his fingers in the band of her panties, dragging them down over her hips, nudging her legs wider apart as she stepped out of them. He looked up at her from between her thighs with such pure adoration that her breath caught in her chest. Belle reached down to cup his face and run her fingers through the soft silk of his hair. He closed his eyes and leaned in, nostrils flaring as he breathed in deep to catch her scent and it was thoroughly arousing. Her belly clenched, fluttering with anticipation as his breath ghosted across her already wet flesh.

Urgent need coursed through him the moment he’d tasted the sweet honey that flowed from her creamy little cunt. He loved it. Sharp and sweet and delicious. The nectar of his own personal goddess and he would live on it if he could. He relished the way she cried out and gripped his hair until it hurt at the first brush of his tongue against the glistening petals of her sex.

His heart soared and his cock surged when he felt her legs tremble as he worked his tongue between her folds to make his first slow circle around the lovely little pearl of her clit. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips as he pushed her up and back against the wall, lifting one leg to drape over his shoulder as he set to work with a will. Exploring her with the flat of his tongue, sucking at her tender nub, his nose nudging at her mound and breathing in the exotic elixir that was _Belle_. He hadn’t quite believed anything that was happening up until this point, but he could no longer deny his glorious fate when he was surrounded by her, breathing her, drowning in her.

Belle cried out and clutched at the sides of his head when he slipped two fingers inside her depths, the pad of his thumb circling her clit and flicking over it ever so lightly. He crooked the two fingers inside her, rubbing and thrusting against that special spot that he knew would make her pant and writhe and come apart for him. Rumple watched her lovely face - her bottom lip caught between pearl white teeth, cheeks flushed a lovely, dark rose that matched perfectly the dusky hue of her sex, eyes dark, pupils blown wide. He loved the way she looked when he was giving her pleasure, and he had missed it so fucking much, he could barely breathe. He couldn’t tear his eyes away if he’d wanted to, he reached up to pinch and pluck at one taut nipple, and at her sharp intake of breath and high pitched whimper, he knew that she was so, so close.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he crooned, rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger, his other hand working rhythmically between her thighs. “Please, Belle, I need to see you come for me.”

She broke with a wail, her flesh pulling and clenching around him, her fingers tightening painfully against his scalp, the scalding fluid of her rapture bathing his palm. He watched her face for a breathless moment, revelling in her bliss, in the way her mouth fell open and her breathing stopped as she shook and trembled in her throes.

“So beautiful,” Rumple whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. Belle’s eyes fluttered open and she gazed down at him as he spoke, her breathing hard in her chest, her fingers combing through his hair. “There’s nothing in all the realms, Belle, in all the long years, nothing more beautiful than the way you look when you come for me.”

“Rumple...” Belle breathed as he laid her down on the bed and claimed her sweet mouth, sliding his tongue between her lips and stroking every sensitive place he knew. Love and contentment bursting through her as she felt his familiar weight cover her, pressing her into the mattress, his rigid length hard and welcome against her thigh. Gods but she wanted to feel him fill her and fuck her until she lost her voice from screaming his name, but Rumplestiltskin had other ideas.

He had not yet drunk his fill of her sweet nectar, and he left off plundering her mouth. He gave her a wicked grin and leaving her lips bruised and dark from his kisses, Rumple nipped and sucked at her neck and breasts before mouthing his way down her fluttering belly to dive hungrily between her thighs once more. He devoured her, ravished her with lips and tongue and teeth and fingers until he was drowning in the liquor of her bliss, until he lost count of how many times he’d driven her to her peak and sent her crashing over the precipice into screaming orgasm after screaming orgasm. Until she tugged him by the hair and begged him to stop.

It had been too long since Belle had known such ecstasy, and her limbs were loose and languid as he lifted his head to gaze at her, his lips and chin glistening with the evidence of her extreme satisfaction. Rumple’s hair was wonderfully messy and his eyes crinkled at the corners, alight with amusement at her predicament. She wanted to reach for him, to stroke his cheek and draw him in for a kiss, but she couldn’t even will her hand to move that far. She lay there practically insensible, her breath ragged, her throat raw, and her body damp with sweat and trembling.

He watched her half-lidded eyes, and the gentle curve of her smile as she lay spread and spent beneath him, her chestnut curls fanned out amongst the pillows. She was perfect, pale porcelain, cheeks and throat flushed pink in her rapture, berry-sweet lips and eyes black as midnight, only a tiny ring of azure blue to show their true color. She was beauty and love and redemption and he still couldn’t believe that she had chosen him. Not only to walk with him in life, but for all time. Theirs was love so true and eternal, it outlasted death and time and the blackest of curses to bring him home to her in the end. Utterly hers, as he had been since the day he caught her as she fell into his arms bringing light into the darkest corners of his soul. As he was made to be.

Belle came slowly to her senses, cupping his cheek and pulling him down for a deep and thorough kiss, and she could feel his cock straining against her, thick and rigid and leaving a slick trail of fluid where he ground against her for relief. She lifted her knees, wrapping her legs around his waist and digging her heels into his buttocks to draw him to her center, to where she needed him. Rumple tore his mouth from hers, gasping, his eyes wild.

“I need to be inside you, sweetheart.” He begged, rotating his hips and sliding his hard length between her folds, coating him with her juices, the soft skin of his head rubbing against her clit in the most delicious way. She was soaking wet and her flesh was hot and swollen and sensitive from his attentions and it felt amazing as he slipped and slid and rubbed against her. Belle moaned, canting her hips to capture the tip of him and allowing him to slide slowly inside.

“Fill me, my love,” she breathed, her head thrown back as he sunk his teeth into the pale column of her throat, “be one with me.”

“Oh, my Belle, my heaven,” Rumple moaned against the side of her neck as he sheathed himself fully inside her. He stilled, savoring the soft, velvet heat of her walls surrounding him, welcoming him home at long, long last. He covered her, lifting his head to look into her eyes as he began to move inside her. Belle’s eyes filled with tears even as she arched up unto him, pressing her breasts to his chest, and cupping his cheeks with her small hands.

Rumple tasted salt on his lips as his own tears of joy spilled freely down his cheeks. Joining with her - his true love, his soul, his home - was beyond anything he’d ever felt in life. The bliss began where their bodies met, a sweet heat that whispered like tingles of electricity playing over their skin and radiated outward until he felt as though there was nothing left in the universe but them.

Belle tugged him down by the hair to bring his lips to hers. She opened to him, tasting their mingled tears of joy and love and forever as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he pushed deeper until he was grinding against her. She urged him on, digging her heels into his thighs and her nails into the flesh of his shoulders. Belle moaned into his mouth as he thrust, long, slow strokes that took him almost entirely from her before filling her again. It was delicious, feeling every inch of him as he filled her over and over again, his hips moving in slow circles at the nadir of his thrusts to give her more pressure, more delightful friction. Rumple’s skin hot and damp against hers, his tongue pushing into her mouth while he fucked her, his hands tangled in her hair and scratching at her scalp, it was so much sensation, and Belle was lost to it. But it was keeping her on a knife-edge of pleasure that coiled in her belly and was driving her mad with want.

Rumple sensed her frustration, heard it in the desperation of her keening cries, and as much as he was savoring the silky-wet heat of her sweet, tight cunt, he wanted to please her. He wanted to hear her scream his name one more time before he poured himself deep, deep in her body. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes, they were wild with lust, her bruised lips parted and panting.

“Did you want something, my love?” he inquired, snapping his hips against her.

Belle threw her head back, and pressed her heels into him, driving him onward, “Fuck me, Rumple, please. Make me come.” Her fingers gripped gripped his flanks and pulled at him.

He growled, lust and love and want surging through him at her words. He pulled his knees up under Belle’s hips, dragging one of her legs to drape over his shoulder so he could thrust even more deeply. Rumple tweaked her pretty pink nipples between fingers and thumb, earning him a sharp cry as he increased his pace, driving into her with the force she wanted. Needed. He trailed his fingers down her belly, dipping into her fluttering navel while she thrashed and writhed and gasped a desperate laugh.

“Rumple, please,” she whined, and he chuckled breathlessly.

“Is this what you need, sweetheart?” he smirked at her, finally bringing his fingers down to circle and rub her clit in just the way he knew drove her wild. “Gods, sweetheart, you are so wet. So fucking wet,” Rumple groaned, loving the slick, wet slide of his fingers against her tender nub. He was rewarded with a firm clench of her inner walls that nearly made him spill himself before he could bring her to orgasm and a teasing tweak to his own nipples. He bit his cheek to stop himself from coming and growled at her.

Belle gasped and drew her nails down his chest as he redoubled his efforts, rubbing and rolling and pinching her swollen clit and pounding himself into her until her eyes went glassy and her breath stopped in her chest. Her body tensed, muscles shaking, her tight heat clenching around him and drawing him inexorably to his own peak.

“Come for me, sweetheart. Come for me,” he crowed, plunging into her, and feeling a rush of scalding fluid bathe his cock as she came, screaming his name and clutching at him desperately. The sensation drove him shouting and gasping over the edge, and he emptied himself deep in her belly with a long, shuddering groan. Belle rode out her orgasm along with him, little cries pulled from her with every thrust, her limbs shaking. Rumple slowed his movements, gathering her in his arms and rocking his hips against her gently, bringing them trembling and panting through their aftershocks.

He finally stilled, slipping out of her with a shiver and flopping down beside her to tangle their limbs together. Rumple drew her into his arms and pillowed her head on his chest, stroking his fingers through her hair and down her back. Belle reached up to cradle his cheek, lifting her face for a feather soft brush of his lips against her forehead.

“Are you well satisfied, Mrs. Gold?” He sounded a little smug, even though he was still breathless, and that made her want to smack him on the belly.

“For now, Mr. Gold,” Belle teased, tightening her fingers in his hair. She was thoroughly worn out, feeling warm and lush and sated in his embrace, her heart full of love, and happiness that they would never need to be parted again. They could travel and explore, together or on their own, visit friends and family, and have all manner of adventures. Yet they would always come back here, to their little house on the edge of realms. To each other. They had each chosen freely, at the moment of their death, and they had chosen each other. The way it was always meant to be.

As their bodies cooled and their breathing slowed, Rumplestiltskin once again began to wonder at his fate. Belle nuzzled into his chest, placing her hand over his heart. He could feel it thumping away, beating strongly against her hand.

“How is it that I have a heart? That I’m here at all?” Rumple mused, his fingers combing gently through Belle’s curls and arranging them across her back. “I thought the path was closed when the author took my powers and ended the line of the Guardians. I was certain I was going back to the Vault,” he shuddered. This time not from pleasure.

Belle sighed, reaching up to draw his face down so she could look in his eyes, “I always knew your heart was true, Rumplestiltskin, even when you didn’t believe it yourself. You gave up your life, your heart, for a man you had counted as enemy for hundreds of years, who tried to kill you, and me, many times.”

“It was a different version of him, Belle. Rogers was a friend to me. And Alice…” his voice was thick with emotion.

“I know you love Alice like a daughter,” Belle hushed him with a finger against his lips. “I know you did it for her. So she could be with her real father. What I’m saying, is that sacrifice, that truly selfless act in the face of not knowing what your fate would be, it made you the final Guardian. The path was opened by you. Because you gave your life for your friends, your family, without knowing that it would bring you here, to me.”

“Ah. I saw the darkness burn away and my heart flashed gold as I held it in my hand, the moment before I thrust it in his chest. I just knew I had to do it. Nothing else was right,” he closed his eyes, clenching his fist in her curls.

“Because your intention was clear, you were giving up your life without thought of reward. You became a true hero once again, your heart was cleansed by the light, as soon as you made the decision,” Belle assured him.

“Then why do I feel it, right here?” He placed Belle’s hand back over where it beat, strong and sure.

“Well, when you came here, to this place, your flesh was made whole again.” Belle smiled up at him, “Your ankle is fully healed as well, and you will find your mind will bring your body into some sort of equilibrium as far as age goes.”

“And what age would you like me to be, sweetheart?” He asked teasingly, satisfied with her answers. He could spend time pondering later, after he had worn her out again...and gone to visit his Baelfire. “Shall I become nineteen again, to match my stunning wife? I’m afraid I was never lovely, even then.”

“I love you just as you are, Rumplestiltskin.” Belle pushed at his chest with her hands and he caught her wrist, bringing her fingers to his lips to kiss each one. “You’re lovely to me. Isn’t that what matters?”

“I suppose it is.” He held her fingers to his lips, a familiar gleam in his eye, a particular cant to his eyebrow. She knew she was in trouble, and she wasn’t the least bit disappointed, or indeed surprised, by his next question. 

“Are you ready for another turn, Mrs. Gold?”

“I thought you would want to go visit Neal…” Belle giggled, pretending to be scandalized by his lustful suggestion. Her eyes flashing with amusement, and desire.

“Oh, I do. Directly after we have thoroughly explored every way I can think of to make you come…” Rumple rolled them until she was atop him, straddling his hips, his fingers massaging her thighs, “I mean, we have all eternity, right? I’m sure Bae won’t be expecting us straight away.”

Belle’s laugh was merry as she rolled her hips against him, eliciting a surprised gasp and his clenching fingers in the flesh of her thighs. He recovered quickly and bucked up into her, pulling her down to grind against him, earning him a gasp of his own.

“Indeed not,” she smirked wickedly at him, “when I left him, he told me he’d be happy to see us in a week.”

Rumplestiltskin laughed, feeling free and happy and peaceful in a way he had only ever found with Belle, in their little house, on the edge of realms. Where they would now have all of eternity to live and laugh and love, and be loved in turn.


End file.
